And thats how i'll be
I sketched for 3 hours,
& in my despair,
I found myself back.
It's boring & sad& there's no one around
In times of my spirit's travail
To love,but love whom?
.. a short love is vexing,
And permanent love's just a myth.
Perhaps look within?
The past's left no trace:
All trivial, joys and distress...
What good are the passions?
For sooner or later
Their sweet sickness ends when reason speaks up;
And life, if surveyed with cold-blooded regard,
Is stupid and empty
a joke...
